


Son of Ares

by Hi5



Series: All Master of Death [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Big Brother Percy, Gen, Violence, clarisse being rude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hi5/pseuds/Hi5
Summary: He was a small thing, all green eyes and pale skin. He was quiet and tiny but Percy felt something when he looked at him. Something familiar and chillingly cold.
Series: All Master of Death [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834036
Comments: 4
Kudos: 169





	Son of Ares

Chiron

He wasn’t what anyone had expected. And no one really knew how he had made it on his own to the camp. His name was Harry he said, with a voice so quiet and calm that in an instant Chiron thought him a child of Hebe.  
But that was not so, because in those eyes-so green almost unnatural in their light-he saw rage as never before. Whatever child he was, he was full of fury. And though the gods often raged, he had a suspicion that he almost hoped was not true. Because if it was so, then Harry would never be accepted there.  
He was a small thing, all fine bone and billowing rage. His hair seemed a storm of pitch and ebony as it rested on his head and he was pale. So pale he could have easily called himself a son of Hades if that would not have brought him instant death from Hades and Zeus both.  
Chiron did not know what to make of him, with his sweet face that never seemed to move and those half-lidded eyes hidden by circular glasses. He did not know what to make of Harry, but he would be watching the elfin boy.

Harry

It didn’t matter that the boy moved with a languid grace as if he were made of fire and celestial bronze. As if even in that moment of life he was being tempered as every fine weapon must be. It didn't matter that he sat quiet and alone in the shadows of the fire away from all others and ate his food quickly. It did not matter because he did not care at all.  
Not about the children full to spilling in the Hermes cabin or the centaur who brought memories of so long ago.  
He did not care about the fire that crackled and whispered in front of him as if a child just waiting for him to fall in. Because no matter how it moved, it could never make up for fire once turned green from powder and magic.  
This world he was in was so strange, different from before. But then he wondered how long ago that had been. How long had he slept in the embrace of that which he mastered? That which claimed to love him as it crooned so sweetly of never letting go. How long had he slept?  
Because all he knew after the one closing of the eyes and the next was darkness. And then light as the world came into fuzzy hue. As he was held by a woman who smiled at him sweetly while she fed him her honey-sweet milk.  
Was it the milk that made him love her? Was it the warmth as he drank and drank and was always allowed to drink till full? He had wondered that in the days during and after but he’d decided no.  
Because even without the milk, she still looked at him with warmth and love. She looked at him as if the whole world was made just to bring him forth. She looked at him like he had once dreamed his then gone witch mother had done. And so he decided that he would have loved her all the same, even as he believed her to be more than human.  
For even as he learned to sit up and crawl and laugh when raspberries against his belly, he could feel it in the very beat of his heart. In the webwork of his skin. Power.  
Power so bright and hot that at times it was all he could do not to fall down and scream. Or worse, rise up and rage.  
It had to be her, he decided. But it wasn’t her because if it was she would not have died. 

Percy

The new boy was different. Not just because he hadn’t been claimed yet either. He was quiet like no one Percy had ever seen before. And he seemed lonely.  
He didn’t know what it was or why he was doing it, but Percy kept watching him. And so he was the first one to notice.  
The new boy-Harry-was always watching them. He did it quick and silent and subtle, but he was always always watching. He watched from the benches during activities, he watched from the campfire during dinner, and he watched while he was walking.  
He was always watching and he was always ready for a fight.  
It was hard to tell but Percy liked to think that he had learned something from the whole mess that his life had turned into. One of those things was knowing when someone was ready to fight. And Harry was always ready.  
That had to mean something or have something to do with whoever his godly parent was.  
Be was right but he didn’t really see it until Clarice acted.  
She was the camp bully. Everyone knew that and she was always ready to show who was top dog to the newbies. Some-most-of them learned to stay out of her way and some-like Percy-learned to stand before her. Because you either let her walk all over you or you let her know that you would not be her punching bag. And that day, everyone learned that Harry was the latter.  
It had started like normal, the sound of kids and teenagers drowning out any quiet that could have been. And maybe if Clarice didn’t love making it a spectacle, no one would have even noticed. But she did, and when she did it, it was loud. loud enough to get the attention of everyone near the campfire.  
Clarisse was big and she was tall. It made Harry all the more small. she gave an ugly grin, the same one Percy knew was from Ares because he had seen the god when he fought, and he knew that she was about to enjoy what was about to happen.  
“So I hear you’re the new pipsqueak.” She said with a smile. Members of her cabin standing behind her looked on with grins.  
It made Percy sick sometimes how brutal they were. But it seemed everyone thought being a child of Ares meant you had to be an ass. As if being any gods’ kid meant you had to be a certain way or could act how you wanted. He started walking closer, making his way past frozen campers to help the kid.  
Harry just looked at her with his too green eyes.  
“Well seeing as you’re new here, I bet you didn’t know that we have a little initiation.” She looked down at him, smile getting bigger to become a Cheshire grin.  
“You my little friend are gonna get up close and personal with Mr. Swirly.” The people behind her started laughing as she reached to grab Harry. Except he stepped back and then for what Percy thought was the first time, they heard his voice.  
“Don’t touch me.” It was soft, like the whisper of a butterfly wing. Or bladed steel.  
Clarisse did not like that. “What did you say?” she snarled, face getting red. She did not like being talked back to.  
Harry looked her in the eye. “Don’t touch me. I won’t be to blame.”  
Percy didn’t know why but that quicksilver voice made him shiver. And for some reason it felt familiar but he couldn’t remember from where he’d heard it before.  
“Blame for what foureyes? Blame for drinking toilet water till you pee it out? Cuz that’s what’s gonna happen!” She snarled and Percy tried to get there faster. Because no kid-and that’s what Harry was-deserved that. Clarisse needed to calm down.  
But Harry had gone still and those eyes blazed with fire. And then Clarisse was grabbing at him and lifting him up by his shirt. She was gonna drag him to the toilets and Percy wasn’t fast enough!

Harry

The shirt was grey. It was soft and it reminded him of her eyes. That's why he took it when he saw it in the store. It had been so easy to fool them too. Just widen his eyes and smile so sweetly. Then, the fire in his blood had done the rest.  
It was always easier to make them mad, to make them do stupid things. But he’d practiced once with a torrential flood of power in his core. This fire in his veins was almost the same and so he learned to control it.  
It was grey and it reminded him of her eyes as she had looked at him with terror. As she mouthed for him to run even as she screamed for the monster to follow her. It had and he had. And after he had never seen her again. His mother was dead but after, he made sure all the monsters died too.  
It was grey and he loved it because he had loved her. So when the girl grabbed it and pulled him up, he lost control. But he had warned her, he always did. The rest was not his fault. the world became red before his eyes.

Percy

Percy was wide eyed. Somehow, Harry grabbed the wrists holding him and twisted up. His left leg went up even as he pulled her down. Booted foot met temple and those hands let go of his shirt. Clarisse was on the ground but he wasn’t done.  
He landed on the right foot and brought the left still in the air down onto her chest. The force was enough to break ribs but Clarisse blocked it with her arms. She wasn’t a daughter of Ares for nothing. And she was mad. She pushed and he stumbled back enough for her to get up and try to tackle him.  
But he had fought before and he had the fire. And for once he let it go. She yelled at him and he ran toward her, pushing his fist into the soft meat just below where her ribs met. The power in his punch was not normal. But then he grabbed her head and his knee came up to slam into her face. There was so much blood.  
The other kids were screaming but he couldn’t hear. Because the fire was roaring and he wanted her bleeding cold beneath his feet! So down she was and down his fists went. He sat on her, his knees holding her shoulders down even as his fists fell again and again and again. He kept going. Kept hitting and when he brought his fists together over his head to bring them down and make her stop moving for good, hands grabbed him. And he went still.

It was horrible. Her face looked like meat and she didn’t look like she was breathing. Harry was breathing hard and the sweat plastered hair against his forehead. Percy didn’t know what to think but he thanked the gods when he saw one hate filled eye from Clarisse glare at the eyed boy in his arms.  
Harry finally answered her question. “I won’t be to blame when you are nothing but blood and meat beneath my feet.” And the voice finally came to him as the others gasped.  
Because Percy remembered that voice. It had belonged to Ares, and right above Harry’s head was the sign of the god of war.  
No one would denounce it. Because Harry had just claimed his birthright through blood and fire. And as the blood dripped down from his still clenched fists, Percy wondered again about the boy in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this has a different vibe than the first one. Again, I want MOD Harry in as many ways as I can get. And I'm a sucker for sad introverts with crazy streaks.


End file.
